


Blow The Candle

by Thilbo



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bilbo is a lyrist, Bilbo is also a sassy little thing, Bofur is a sweetheart and all knowing, Established Relationship, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Sexual Content, Thorin is a novelist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thilbo/pseuds/Thilbo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of Thorin coming up to London to celebrate Bilbo's birthday, he sends a video message from Japan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blow The Candle

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first Thilbo AU but I warn you guys: this fic is just one big clutter of nonsense that has no sensible plot. I just wrote whatever the heck came to mind. There is nothing but a needy Bilbo with Thorin feels. Also, if you guys want to share my thilbo feels and want to shamelessly spazz with me, come find me on [my tumblr](http://thilbo.tumblr.com). Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this fic!

 

“ _Uh—Is it recording? Oh. It is. Okay. Alright then. So, congrats on your birthday Bilbo. And even though I am not next to you right now, I am sending you this celebration video in return. I'm doing okay here in Japan with Balin and Dwalin, so don’t you worry your pretty little face about me. But do I miss you. I hope all is well with you back in London and I hope your new composition is doing well. And since you aren’t here next to me to blow this candle, I will blow it for you. Happy birthday, Bilbo._ ”

Bilbo lets the video drown out into silence and darkness before it refreshes, the marker going back to the start, Thorin’s idiotic and handsome face engrossing the thumbnail. Bilbo’s gaze lazily but intently stays on Thorin’s opened mouthed smile, his beard glowing in all its glory in such a way that all the girls swoon over it, wanting to touch it. The bastard knew women loved his combo of beard and smile, so much that he would flash it like it was the fucking gold medal, as if he literally had the actual medal  _in_ his mouth. Although really, Bilbo was more than willing to put something  _else_ in Thorin’s mouth because— _shit._  

Bilbo isn’t supposed to be thinking about the kind of things he wants to put in Thorin's mouth because right now, he is suppose to be pissed off. The " _wanting-to-rip-someone's-head-of"_  kind of pissed at the bastard on his laptop screen. The bastard who had decided it was okay to send a video to Bilbo, wishing him a happy birthday instead of fucking coming up to London to visit him. " _Damn him_ " Bilbo whispers as his eyes draw up to Thorin’s black rimmed reading glasses, perfectly complimenting his dark dress shirt and tie. Again, the man was trying to impress although Bilbo wasn’t sure if it was the females he was impressing or Bilbo, his fucking boyfriend that he barely kept in touch with these days.

“Bloody hell.” Bilbo mutters to himself in irritation at the thought of Thorin, the man with emotions that are about as visible as Kili and Fili's mental age,  _his_ Thorin, dressing up for some random females. Dressing up for someone that was  _not_ Bilbo. And that wasn’t even half of it because Japanese females were almost literally throwing themselves at Thorin’s feet, desperately hoping and praying that they would be the one for him. Fucking bitches. If they even dared to  _touch_ a single hair on Thorin’s body, Bilbo would take the first flight to Japan and slice them up like sushi for dinner. Wasabi and ginger be damned.

Fuck, at this point, it was no  _surprise_ at how popular Thorin was in Japan as he, Balin, and Dwalin promoted novel after novel in endless promotions, ranging from appearing in mini t.v. series to various Japanese daytime programs. Thorin’s agent used her connections on every damn station in Japan, milking Thorin’s novel for everything it’s worth. And all the while, Bilbo was stuck back home, in London, all alone working on his music compositions.

And ever since Thorin had left, his popularity had soared, which would be the reason why Thorin couldn’t even fucking make it to Bilbo’s birthday party. The annual birthday party with everyone present, including Balin and Dwalin who even flew back for a week. Well, everyone  _except_ his boyfriend but that’s aside the point. Okay, not really. It’s very much next to the point. Bilbo was, and still is, fucking pissed about that because how in the fucks name do you  _not_ make it to your boyfriend’s birthday?

“My birthday only happens once a year, you arse.” Bilbo bitterly says to the screen, his eyes narrowing down on Thorin’s stupid shit-eating grin. God, he wanted to slap that grin off of Thorin’s handsome face, _hard_. And before Bilbo’s mind could reel to anything else that could be thought to be hard, his cellphone rings. Bilbo sighs under his breath as he gets out of his chair and grabs his cellphone off the marble counter, displeasure in his voice as he greets the caller. “Hello?”

“Morning Bilbo!” Bofur says on the other line with a cheery disposition, obviously giddy about something at 6:30in the fucking morning. Now, although Bilbo loves Bofur more than he loves anyone else, including his asshole of a boyfriend at the moment, he could never understand how Bofur could be so optimistic and joyful. Like, _every fucking day._  The man was just a big ball of sunshine that beamed off endless rays of hope and joy. Something that Bilbo was not despite his cute and kitten like appearance.

“Morning Bofur.” Bilbo tiredly says into his cell as he make his way back to his seat, Thorin’s face welcoming him. Fucking asshole. “For what do I owe the honor of you calling me. At the crack of dawn.”

“Well damn. You sound bitter.” Bofur says with obvious worry laced in his voice, his cheery disposition quickly melting. And although Bilbo wanted to reply back with ‘ _How observant of you Bofur. Because everyone is fucking excited at 6:30 in the morning._ ’ he decided against it. Bilbo knew that Bofur had nothing but good intentions in mind, so there was no reason for him to bitch off at Bofur for something Thorin did. “I was expecting you to be all ecstatic since Thorin sent you that birthday video. I mean, every little thing Thorin does sends you over the moon.”

“And also under fucking hell.” Bilbo mutters into the phone, leaning his head back against the chair, lazily eyeing the bright and sleek ceiling. “The asshole sends me a fucking video to make up for not visiting me on my birthday when I  _clearly_ told him to clear his schedule the week of my birthday. If everyone one else could make it, then so could he. But no. His shit face had 2 shows to appear on, completely disregarding my wishes. ”

“Um.” Bofur simply mutters into the line, obviously at lost for words at Bilbo’s fuming anger. “So. I am guessing you don’t want to meet up with me today then?” Bofur says after a short period of silence, somewhat dejectedly. Damn it all to hell. Bilbo felt like shit doing this to Bofur, who was just the sweetest person ever, right next to Ori.

“Yeah. I am sorry Bofur. I got home around 2 in the morning from the studio, adding the finishing touches to the album. Kili and I wanted to perfect the shit out of the parts in the song, so we ended up staying much longer than we anticipated. So I am sorry. But I’ll make it up to you by going to that charity event this weekend that you kept pestering me about. Sound good?”

“Oh, it’s fine. I understand. You’ve been working really hard these past few weeks.  I mean, pressure is all that surrounds you these days, so don’t even apologize.” Bofur tenderly says into the phone, his voice so calming and understanding, Bilbo could feel the gentleness seep through the phone, onto his body and around him. God, Bofur is like a sedative despite his daily silliness and stupidity. " I should have known better than to call you this early, completely forgetting that you might be sleeping since you have spent weeks in the studio, pulling all-nighters."

“Bofur, you are seriously the greatest.” Bilbo says as he hears Bofur’s gentle laugh on the line, letting it wrap itself around Bilbo’s tired body, tightly caressing him like the touch of a mother, which in some aspect was true because Bofur really did have that motherly nature in him, always looking out for others and taking care of them. “You are just the fucking best. I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Bilbo. Just don’t be too hard on Thorin. I mean, sure, what he did was wrong but you also have to look at it from his point of view. Our Thorin, that emotionally constipated, silent, and over confident man is off in Japan doing great things. He barely sleeps, eats, and studies Japanese all day nonstop, rushing from one location to the next.” Bofur softly says into the phone, Bilbo's anger dwindling down, slowly and slyly. He wanted to stay pissed off at Thorin for obvious reasons but Mother Teresa on the other line was making that a tad bit hard. “Thorin is not perfect, Bilbo. He makes mistake, albeit a lot more than necessary, but he is trying his best. Give him some space and breathing room.”

“I  _am_ , Bofur. I am giving him space. So much space in fact, it is the fucking distance between Japan and London. I am sure that is enough space for him unless of course he needs more space and decides to promote in the fucking South Pole. That should be enough space for him from me.” Bilbo bitterly says into the phone, his mixed emotions towards Thorin pricking him endlessly, one thorn soft and flimsy while the other harsh and brutal.

“Bilbo, you know you’re being unfair to Thorin. No, let me finish. Just, let me. I get it that Thorin should have not stood you up on your birthday but what else was he suppose to do? Drop all the show offers he got, that he worked  _months_ for by the way, and run to you?” Bofur says, leaving no room for argument as he shuffles on the line, probably moving locations. “He is doing the best he can, Bilbo. I mean, on top of all that crap he has going on, he is dating you! Bilbo Baggins. Our emotionally constipated Thorin is dating the perfectionist of an arse Bilbo. It’s like the clash of the Titans, except with artists. And dating you is enough stress on the man, so cut him some slack, yeah?”

“Well fuck. Thank you for making me sound like the black plague and shit, Bofur. It makes me feel so much better about myself and my life. Really, thank you.” Bilbo grumbles into the phone, staring at Thorin’s face, his anger subsiding for a bit because Bofur had a point. As much as Bilbo would like to refute it, dating Bilbo Baggins was not an easy task. It just wasn’t.

To date Bilbo Baggins, the other party would have to give up a lot because despite Bilbo’s petite outer appearance, he was a pretty complicated person internally. He had a darker and deeper side to him that he rarely showcased to the world, a side that he slyly hid within himself, layer under layer when he made his debut as a song lyrist. He had to perfect an appearance of a dandy little chap to blend into the crowd when really, Bilbo was a walking paradox. His mind was like the fucking black hole, endless and chaotic. Dating him was almost like suicide, really. And it was no surprise that once he got into relationships, they ended faster than he could finish composing a song.

So the fact that Thorin, the newly debuted and independent novelist, silent, clever, and haughty in more ways than possible, had put up with Bilbo Baggins for years was a miracle. He had put up with years and years of Bilbo’s criticism, coldness, and just out right Bilbo-ness. Thorin had put up with Bilbo like none other. And that, that was enough for Bilbo to let his walls down around the stoic and confident Thorin, letting him into his messed up world, mind, and life. And God, if it wasn’t the greatest decision Bilbo has ever made because it was. Oh how it fucking was.

The second he let Thorin into his world, life for Bilbo was like walking on clouds, every single damn day. He would wake up snuggled to Thorin in the mornings, their bodies meshed together under the covers in the most perfect way possible. They would then spend the rest of the day together, all the way through their schedules, bickering and clawing at each other with so much love and affection, they breathed and lived for each other. And Bilbo loved getting under Thorin’s skin, like a fucking parasite, pulling the man apart before putting him back together. And when the night came around, they would fall back asleep in each other’s arms and not care about a single thing in the world, simply letting their even breathing occupy the dark room.

Of course, that shit didn’t happen anymore, since you know, life is a cold progressing bitch that likes to shakes things up. What life was like years ago when they first met was nothing what life was like nowadays. The current Thorin didn’t follow Bilbo around like the faithful bastard he was, he didn’t spend as much time with Bilbo anymore, and he most certainly did not share his most inner secrets with Bilbo anymore.

No, the current Thorin was becoming more and more independent, meeting new people, traveling all over the world, and just doing shit that Bilbo hated. Fuck, it was like Thorin was out doing things to  _spite_  Bilbo, as if telling him to fuck off. Which, Bilbo knew was not true because he always assumed the worst when Thorin didn't pay attention to him, which would explain why he isn’t exactly a “Bofur” with all that optimism and shit. 

Bilbo was a sensitive and brooding asshole that could not stand things if they were not perfected to the very last detail, to  _his_ liking, making everyone’s lives around him that much harder. Sometimes, mostly when Thorin is away, he secretly falls into depression and easily hates people, drawing himself away from the world and just keeping to himself. And in his slumps, Bilbo would just assume the worst of the worst and sulk away with nothing but negativity. So yeah, he wasn’t a Bofur.

But the bottom line was that Thorin just wasn’t around Bilbo all that much anymore. Even after dating each other for almost 4 amazing and blissful years, Thorin was becoming more and more distant. And that, that fucking hurt Bilbo. It hurt him so much, he would sometimes fucking cry in his sleep like the grown ass man he was. 

And the emptiness and loneliness inside of Bilbo due to Thorin’s constant absence got to such a point that even his mum noticed it whenever she visited him, worrying over him and asking him what was wrong. And Bilbo, the wonderful son he was known to be, lied and said he was just stressed from the album which was utter bullshit. Like, how in the fuck was he suppose to tell his mum that her full grown son was crying over an asshole that was inhumanely beautiful and lethal to his well-being and emotional stability?

So in his mind, Bilbo had every right to be pissed off at Thorin and he won’t be dropping this anytime soon. He didn’t fucking care if he was coming off as needy asshole because that is exactly what he is. He has been fucking deprived of his boyfriend for almost a good two months, sleeping alone in the dark room, waking up alone in the warm sunlight, and eating alone in their oversized dining room. Bilbo was just _alone_. And it didn’t help that he spent ninety percent of his time in the studio working on the album, rotting his days away without even an ounce of care to his well-being and health.

“Bilbo, just give some space to Thorin, let him come around on his own. Besides, you two are always like this, fighting and bickering about how one doesn’t make time for the other and then bam! The very next second, you two are all over each other and ten seconds away from having public sex.” Bofur says into the phone with most likely a smile, judging by how happy his tone was.

“I hate it when you go all Mother Teresa on me.” Bilbo mumbles into the phone as he drags a tired hand across his face, closing the screen to his laptop. “But I am only letting you say all this because I am tired as fuck. I've been recording nonstop for two fucking weeks. So enjoy it while you can.”

“Oh you know I will.”  Bofur says into the phone with a slight tease in his voice, shuffling again in the background. “Do you even know how exhilarating it is to prove you wrong?”

“Oh shut up.” Bilbo says with a small but tired smile.

“No need to hateon the truth, my dear friend.” Bofur says with a soft laugh, his thick voice crackling into the phone and wrapping around Bilbo's fatigued body. “But Bilbo, I mean it. Go easy on Thorin. The man loves you more than anyone else.” Bofur finally says into the phone as he bids Bilbo a farewell, reminding Bilbo that he promised to be at the charity event before hanging up, which shit, he had already forgotten about.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

For the next few hours, Bilbo lazily works on the newest composition he had started after meeting with Kili, one of the last two songs that needed completion. After this, he would be free and then the fun part would start: recording. Bilbo loved watching an artist come into his studio, eager and young and naïve, ready to tackle on whatever song Bilbo had ready, to watch his nights of scribbling become a noise by another. He loved watching other’s take his song and bring it to life with their voice. He loved it dearly. So with a couple more scribbles here and there, his brain wiring faster than his hand can move, Bilbo exhales an overdue sigh and slouches into the chair.

He looks up at his clock and is stunned to see that it was already 11:00 am, almost four hours have passed when it felt like it thirty minutes. His mind was too damn tired to even try to figure that shit out, so instead, he slumps into his seat and closes his eyes. He hasn’t slept in over twenty four hours and sleep  _still_ wasn’t coming to him and that just irritated the fuck out of him because he was tired of everything and yet, he can't find it in him to just rest, to forget everything and just go to fucking sleep.

With an annoyed grunt and whatever energy he has left, Bilbo gets out of his seat and stretches, lazily running his eyes over his home, solitude creeping into him like a freight train. Wanting to get rid of that feeling, Bilbo loiters around his house for the next twenty minutes or so because a) he couldn’t sleep b) he didn’t feel like working on his song since that is all he has been doing for the past few weeks and c) because he was still hung over about Thorin not showing up.

Fuck. He's back at point one because memories of their last phone call to each other invaded his mind. The call that was like a nightmare to Bilbo at this point because he remembers the desperation in his voice, begging Thorin to come back to London, to _him._ That he missed him. That he was alone. That he was slowly losing his mind and going insane, that if Thorin didn’t come home already, Bilbo was going to fly up to Japan and fucking kill him and drag him back home.

Bilbo also remembers how eagerly yet brokenly he had told Thorin that he loved him and missed him and needed him. That he wanted to be in his arms, tightly, securely, and eternally. Bilbo almost begged, his pride be damned, for Thorin to come back already, even if it was for a day.

But nope. Thorin decided he had other things to tend to, things that were apparently more important than his boyfriend. The asshole said that he just couldn’t come up to London, no matter how much he wanted to, that there was too much going on in Japan for him to step away from. He fucking muttered an apology and said he had to go, that his agent was calling him, that he wouldn’t be able to call Bilbo anytime soon because of some shit. He then hung up, letting the silence overtake Bilbo’s body as he gripped the phone with the dial tone ringing loudly in his ears, his knuckles white, his mind and heart shattered. He shamelessly cried himself to sleep that day.

“Fucking shit.” Bilbo mutters to himself as he walks out of the dining room, all kinds of thoughts invading his mind, bringing on a headache he didn’t need. He exhales a deep sigh, letting himself drown in nothingness before he make his way to his room.

Bilbo uses the restroom, brushes his teeth for no damn reason, loiters around the kitchen, openes and closes the cabinets before he settles for an energy drink, which wasn’t going to help his sleep situation, so there goes his sleep.

With an over energized but tired body, Bilbo slumps face down onto his couch, his right leg and hand dangling off the couch, almost touching the floor. He closes his eyes and lets the stillness of the house envelop his senses, swaying him into complete and utter loneliness. The house was too damn quiet. It was too big and alone for Bilbo, way too solitary for him. Everything is just felt so lifeless around him.  _He_ felt lifeless.

And if the sudden sound from Bilbo’s cellphone startled and scared the shit out of him, no one had to know. He mutters under his breath at his rapidly beating heart, slowly adjusting himself on the couch so that he was on his back, his eyes still closed while easily reaching into his pockets. He pulls his phone out with no strength and lazily places it between his ear and shoulder.

“Hello?” Bilbo mutters into the phone with a little more edge to his tone than intended because of his tired up body and self. He just didn’t have it in him to be nice and polite to the poor chap that was calling him.

“Bilbo?” Came a very, very familiar voice that snapped Bilbo out of his hazy state, his eyes snapping open, his body lunging straight up, his hands reaching to his phone. He pulls the phone away and stares at the number on the screen. It had the area code of a residence in Japan.

Bilbo gapes at the phone, not exactly sure what to do or say, before he hears the voice again across the line, a gruff and barely audible ‘ _you there?_ ’ in that familiar voice he knew all too fucking well. That fucking voice that would make Bilbo whimper and tremble in bed, shattering him into a million pieces before mending him back together. Bilbo labeled that fucking voice as the Satan’s spawn, so sinfully alluring, dark, and perfect.

“Bilbo, you there? Did I call the wrong number?” The voice says into the phone, more so to himself than to the gawking Bilbo.   

“ _YOU SON OF A BITCH!_ ” Bilbo practically growls into the phone, his fingers tightly clutching the plastic material, his knuckles turning blank white. Bilbo's chest heavily heaves up and down, his heart thundering against his ribs, ready to jump out and run away without looking back. Fuck. He hasn’t felt this alive and vivid in _weeks_ , his body fired up by energy that he didn't even know he had left in him, his skin glowing with emotion.“You bastard. You better have a good explanation as to why you are fucking calling me two days after my birthday that you bailed on when I _clearly_ told you to be there. You stupid asshole, I just want to beat the living shit out of your fucking face.” Bilbo growls into the phone till his throat forms a big lump, halting him from being able to speak.

He heavily swallows and tries not to let his emotions get the best of him, especially when he was just too sensitive because of too much stress from everything and Thorin calling him out of the fucking blue was _not_  suppose to get him this riled up. It wasn’t in Bilbo's plan to get this emotional over his ass of a boyfriend, to get this attached, to have fallen this deep and hard. It wasn't in his plans but who the fuck was he kidding, really?

He was head over heels for the man, shamelessly and hungrily because he practically lived for the Thorin now. So although Bilbo hadn’t planned on falling for Thorin this miserably, he fucking hated what his body was doing to him, shattering his well-being into a pile of mesh because the asshole has finally called him after weeks, setting his body on the edge at the familiar voice, making his heart constrict in sheer glee.

“Nice extension of a vocabulary you got there, Bilbo. Very creative choice of words.” Thorin casually and coolly says into the phone, pissing the fuck out of Bilbo because how dare he. How fucking dare he act so damn cool and collected when Bilbo was practically on the verge of taking pills to help cope with his boyfriend’s absence. 

“Why the  _fuck_ are you calling me?” Bilbo coldly asks as he nudges his face into the soft but cold leather material of the couch, letting it caress his tired skin. God, he wanted to fucking hang up on the asshole. Hang up on him and never talk to him again, let him drown in agony and make him feel what Bilbo had felt for the past month. Oh how wanted to hang up, right in his face and give him a taste of his own damn medicine and just take delight in Thorin's misery and dismay. But as much as Bilbo yearned for that, he knew he wouldn't do that. Or rather, he knew he didn't have the strength nor courage in him to do that. His body was crying tears of joy at finally being able to hear his boyfriend’s voice and Bilbo just didn’t have it in him to hang up, which is ass of a logic and not fucking fair if you ask him.

“I am not allowed to call you?” Thorin asks with that stupid tone of coolness, as if there wasn’t a single fucking thing wrong. As if he everything was okay. And that, that just seeped rage into Bilbo’s bones, muscles, and veins. That tone of Thorin’s was getting under his fucking skin, in all the right and wrong ways.

“No. You aren’t allowed to fucking call me after ignoring me for weeks, and for not coming to my birthday, and for every other shit that you have _not_ been doing.” Bilbo says, his voice almost a growl.

“Ah. So that is what this is about?” Thorin asks with a small sigh, crushing Bilbo’s body with it’s pressure and breaking him into two. Apparently the asshole had no sense of what he has done wrong. How grand.  

“Yes, that is what this is about, you fucker!” Bilbo yells, his body growing angrier, cutting off everything inside of him except his emotions. The very emotions that he was  _not_ suppose to be having for a fucking man he was  _not_ suppose to love this much.  

“Then I am assuming the birthday video I made for you was not good enough?” Thorin asks with an accusing tone, which rude, because Bilbo was the one here that was suppose to do all the accusing. not the other way around.

“Are fucking serious? Sending me a video to make up for your absence?? A fucking video where there is nothing but a pixilation of you and your stupid face?” Bilbo asks as he angrily slumps his back against the couch’s armrest. “Why in fuck’s name would you send me a video when I clearly told you I wanted you to come. That I wanted to see you. On my _birthday_. You know, the day that comes around only once a year? Emphasize on the ‘ _once_ ’ if you haven’t noticed.”

“And I told you I couldn’t.” Thorin calmly retaliates with a soft sigh, as if he was wrongly accused again. “I told you that I couldn't visit you because I was already in the studio shooting. I was ten minutes way from going on air, so there was no way I could have left the studio, buy a ticket, pack, and make it in time for your birthday. It was just impossible to do, Bilbo.” Thorin calmly says into the phone as Bilbo’s emotions start to boil into an unhealthy mixture, one that fiercely boiled under his skin, almost ready to seep out and drown him because on one end, Thorin had a point but on the other end, he was still in the wrong for blatantly ignoring Bilbo for who knows how long. Okay, that's a lie. Bilbo knows how long because he fucking counted each day Thorin ignored him. So he knows. But Bilbo still doesn’t know what to say because half his conscience was screaming ‘ _f _orgive him.__ ’ while the other half was yelling ‘ _don’t you dare forgive him, Bilbo. don’t you dare._ ’ Both sides were leaving his mind in a big mess of do’s and don’ts, shit that he didn’t need right now because his head was fucking hurting. 

“You know what. Fuck off, Thorin.” Bilbo finally says, disappointment and hurt lacing his voice. He really didn’t know what nonsense he was saying as anger and hurt clouded his mind, his body slowly weighing down on him, all those weeks of not sleeping and eating catching up to him. He was fucking tired. Of everything and of everyone. He didn’t need this shit right now. Not when the fucking album was going to be released in a few days. “Just. Forget it. I am tired and I have a recording session tomorrow, so do whatever the fuck it is you do in Japan. Do whatever the fuck you want, since you know, I am not really relevant in the big picture these days when it comes to you. Just, leave me the fuck alone." Bilbo says, blatantly lying as he had no session to record because he had finished all his recordings until the next composition was ready. And before Bilbo could hang up, Thorin’s voice quickly reached out to him.

“You don’t mean that.” Thorin softly says with an edge of firmness in his voice, not waiting for a reply from Bilbo, who wasn’t going to give him one because he hated it when Thorin used that tone. That damn tone where Thorin was being gentle yet cruel at the same time, patching Bilbo up with his voice before cutting him down into pieces. Bilbo hated that fucking voice because it did things to him, powerful, sinister, and beautiful things that left him aching and trembling at night in bed under Thorin. 

“Think whatever you want then, Thorin. I am tired and I don’t have time for your bullshit anymore.” Bilbo says with what little vigor he has left, that energy drink quickly wearing off and his lack of sleep for the past couple of days finally kicking into him. Damn it all to hell. He needs to sleep. He  _wants_ to sleep. To drown himself out from everything and from everyone.

“Then I am going to think that you still love me and that everything  _you’re_ saying is bullshit. You aren’t tired of me and you aren’t fed up with me, Bilbo. You love me and need me just as much as I love you and need you.” Thorin softly says in that fucking sure tone again, boiling Bilbo’s blood into a slow and searing pace, heating his body up and drowning him deep within the depths of hell and of everything else sinister. “That is what I am going to think.”

“You do that.” Bilbo bitterly whispers into the phone, biting his bottom lip to stop any unnecessary emotions that were clawing to come out, his lips slightly trembling, his phone shaking in his hands. Bilbo quickly presses the “END” button with trembling fingers, taking deep breaths, trying not to think of anything but sleep. He just needs to sleep. Wear all this fuckery off his body.

And if Bilbo falls asleep with tears straining his face for the nth time, no one has to know that.

 

  

 

 

* * *

 

 

A parched and dry throat with too much fatigue stirs Bilbo in his sleep, his legs lazily tangling in his bedsheets. He squirms his head into the over fluffed pillow, letting the softness of it drown him back into sleep, back into a world that is free of everything he fears, of everything that hurts him and pains him, a world made of nothing. And just as Bilbo was about to slip into the realm of sleep, he hears a soft rattle somewhere in the kitchen.

He stills in bed and lets the silence overtake his room, trying to listen to whatever the heck that noise was. He listens and listens but hears nothing, thinking maybe he just imagined it, which actually would be plausible since he isn’t in his right mind right now. Or any other moment for that matter.  

And just when Bilbo thought everything was okay and was about to fall back asleep, he hears another commotion of noise, except a little louder this time. With fear and curiosity seeping into him like an injection, Bilbo slowly draws his face out of his pillow, his hands and elbows supporting his weight as he sits on his knees. His ears perk up as they try to pick a something,  _anything_ , from the kitchen or wherever the sound came from, his whole body tense and rigid as he hears nothing.

“Fucking fuck.” Bilbo softly mutters to himself as fear rises in him, his hands clutching his sheets before he slowly climbs out of his bed, taking a single step at a time to avoid the creaking of the floor boards. He cautiously makes his way to his door, stopping by it and peering around it and into the hallway, where he was welcomed by nothing but an empty hallway and the looming silence of his house.

And if the next rattle of a noise made Bilbo internally squeak like a girl, well then that's his business . Officially scared beyond his wits, Bilbo’s trembling hand slowly and blindly searches around the hallway wall before his fingers brush against the light switch, turning them all on at once. Bilbo’s weak gaze adjusts to the sudden brightness and was glad to feel some of the tension in his body disappear as he could clearly see ahead of him with thankfully nothing in sight. 

Bilbo slowly creeps through his hallway, bypassing all the extra rooms and bathrooms, making his way towards the living room and kitchen, which had its lights on when Bilbo had _clearly_ turned them off. With furrowed brows, Bilbo walks into the living room more so with curiosity now than fear, his feet lightly hitting against the marble floor, easing him into the living room where there was no one.

Except Thorin motherfucking Oakenshield.

There stood his asshole of boyfriend, the son of a bitch who was supposed to be in Japan at this very moment promoting on some damn Japanese show and not in Bilbo’s fucking living room. There stood the asshole that had ripped and shred Bilbo into a million pieces without even trying, without even laying a single finger on him, with thousands of miles in between them, which might actually part of the reason as to why Bilbo was driven to insanity these past few weeks.

“What the  _fuck_ are you doing here?” Bilbo bites out, his voice strained and hard, trying to hide the fact that his voice was close to faltering, exposing all his raw and bare emotions to the very man that was the cause of said emotions. He quickly schools his expression and his eyes turn into a set of ice cold orbs, his body trembling with a fragile and tender ache. An ache that swelled his heart up so much, he could  _feel_ his body drown at the sudden appearance of Thorin.

As Bilbo stares at Thorin’s calm, superior, and fucking flawless face, his veins tie up into tight knots, his mind convulsing through a million emotions before they settled onto ‘nothingness’ because that was all he felt. He was so pissed, he felt nothing. Not a single fucking thing and that just irritated Bilbo because he _knew_ he was beyond fucking angry at Thorin and yet all he was able to emit was nothing. Damn logic to hell.

“Well, I like to  _think_ that I am visiting you, Bilbo. You know, where I surprise you by showing up all of a sudden. But I am guessing that is not what  _you_ are thinking at the moment, is it?” Thorin asks with a small smile as his beard enveloping his thin lips, his dark eyes glowing with warmth. A fucking smile! Oh how dare he. 

“Excuse me, you are _visiting_  me?” Bilbo barks with an accusing tone as he dangerously edges his way into his living room, anger and frustration rolling down at his feet as if he was walking on a red carpet made of his feelings and emotions, burning his sole and bare feet as he takes a step at a time towards Thorin. “I fucking dare you to say that again, Thorin. I  _dare_  you.”

“Oh come now Bilbo, your vocabulary is still as loving and welcoming as ever.” Thorin says with no smile this time around, his lips forming into a small thin line while his eyes darkly glaze into hardness, throwing Bilbo off-balance for a split second because he loved it when Thorin’s gaze did that. Fuck. He isn’t suppose to be turned on right now by Thorin's eyes. There are far more important matters to deal with right now and Thorin's bedroom eyes can wait.

“You’re right. I should instead use the vocabulary I  _specifically_ made up just for you when you ignored me like I was a disease. You know, the vocabulary that consists of things like " _what the fuck do you want," "get the fuck out of here,"_ and oh yah, _"fuck off_. " See? I have another vocab saved up just for you, darling.”

“Damn it Bilbo.” Thorin mutters under his breath with a sigh, his voice loud enough that Bilbo hears him but soft enough to not give away his emotions. The bastard was getting good at hiding his emotions, of keeping them in check. Which was the complete of opposite of Bilbo as he was practically an open box of emotions, bare and tender emotions that were ready to strike at any second. “I know I wasn’t going to get a ‘welcome home’ banner but can you just not be so damn hostile? I had a long flight and I just want to go to bed with you in my arms.”

“Oh fuck no. You do  _not_ get to pull that bullshit of a card on me. Just no.”  Bilbo says, his voice rising to the edge, fury boiling inside of him at how easily Thorin could ask to sleep with him and act like everything was okay. The bastard must have bumped his head and then some if he thinks Bilbo was going to let him drop this and snuggle into bed together and fucking fall asleep and just melt into a big blob of limbs together. “I have every  _right_  to be hostile towards your ungrateful ass. Who the fuck do you think you are leaving me alone for 2 months, not calling or visiting me. Oh wait! How could I forge the part where you fucking forgot to come to my birthday party, you know, the one where I had to beg you to lure you out of Japan. So fuck off.”

“Dammit. How many times do I have to explain to you that I could not make it your birthday because of my packed schedule in Japan?” Thorin mutters with a very tired sigh, dark circles under his eyes blooming and sprouting across his ruggedly handsome face.

“Oh but of course! When Thorin has a busy schedule, God forbid that he makes time for his friends, family, and oh yah, his fucking boyfriend. That might as well be his ex.” Bilbo retaliates with vigor and anger, hands aching to beat the shit out of said boyfriend.

“Can we just please drop this, Bilbo? There is no point in yelling at each other when we have had this discussion so many damn times. There is really no point to this—”

“There is a fucking point, you asshole! A major, big, neon sign glowing point that is slapping you in the face. But you being Thorin, chose to ignore it _and_ me.”

“I didn’t ignore you or anything else for crying out loud! I gave you a legitimate reason as to why I couldn’t make it to your birthday party. So I don’t see why you need to go and start a crusade against me.”

“God. I am trying my best not to kick you in the fucking balls right now because I actually like them. But fuck you, you asshole!” Bilbo says as he steps a little more into the living room, his feet aching to run to Thorin, to beat him, to hurt him, to caress him, to kiss him. Blast these fucking mixed emotions. “This isn’t just about you not coming to my party, Thorin. It’s about the two whole fucking months you ignored me! My emails, my phone calls, and my voice messages. Fuck. You even ignored me on that one visit I made to Japan for recording. I made sure I had enough time in my schedule to meet up with you. But where you on that day? Oh yeah, fucking recording some show. So don’t you dare tell me to drop this.”

“Because it’s my fault that you told me twenty minutes before recording started that you arrived in Japan? Honestly Bilbo? You couldn’t have bothered to tell me a day or two ahead that you were coming? That I should make arrangements so we have time to be together after my recording?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise! How in fucks name was I suppose to know you had a recording that day?”

“Exactly! That’s my point! You didn’t ask me about my schedule, always assuming things left and right, doing everything at your own will. And when they don't work out for you, you blame it all on me. I mean, I don’t mind getting blamed for things, shit, I’ll take all the blame in the world for you but sometimes, you’re too much.” Thorin says, his lips forming into a thin line, his dark eyes and eyebrows solely focusing on Bilbo, making his tired and fuming heart stutter slightly. “I mean it when I say I had no intention of ‘ _purposely_ ’ ignoring you, Bilbo. Work is work. You know that better than anyone else.”

“Yeah? Is using that explanation your way of making everything seem like it’s okay? That all those torturous days and weeks of hurt, loneliness, and worthlessness are to be forgotten? That we should start afresh and snuggle like cuddle bears with fucking rainbows and unicorns floating above us to show how merry and happy we are? Is that where you are going with that explanation?”

“No. Well, yes. Dammit Bilbo. I just want to forget everything and celebrate your belated birthday because my video message was not good enough. I just want to hold you tightly and close. I want go to bed with you because I am tired of sleeping alone. So please.” Thorin says softly, his voice drowning out to a whisper as he slowly edges towards Bilbo, throwing even more mixed emotions under Bilbo’s feet. Fuck, at this point, Bilbo was a big of puddle of emotional lard that couldn’t decide between punching Thorin or kissing him. Or both. 

“God I hate you.” Bilbo weakly mutters under his breath, tension dispersing from his body as a deeper and more menacing emotion settles within him instead. He feels his heart tug, the strings attached to it pulling left and right, spinning him into chaos, confusion, and emotional fatigue. “I fucking hate you so much. You pull this shit on me, play me over, and then you expect me to forgive you, which you know I will because I can never fucking win against you. Never. And I fucking hate you for that.”

Bilbo glares his too tired and too weak eyes at Thorin, trying to convey his message that he really, really, really hates him and his fucking perfect face and fucking built body and his fucking perfect everything. Bilbo tries his damn best to convey all of this this towards Thorin but miserably fails as he was only welcomed with silence, Thorin closely watching him with those dark eyes and brows.

“Bilbo, I wasn't ignoring you because I wanted to.” Thorin’s says, his voice soft but stern. “It's just that--I was keeping myself away from you for the better good.” Thorin softly says, his lips forming into a thin crease, his gaze melting into one of warmth and gentleness. Like that endearing look he sported years ago back in the good old days, where Bilbo just wanted to give him everything in the world because goddammit that look did sappy and over sentimental things to him. It just made Bilbo melt into a puddle of goo, making his heart flutter, making him to do anything to get a glimpse at those eyes. Or maybe Bilbo was just weak and socially inept to anything that was Thorin related. But that wasn't the point. 

“You mean to tell me that there is a fucking _reason_ as to why you were ignoring me aside from you know, wanting to break up, getting tired of me, and shit?” Bilbo asks, bitter at the idea of not having Thorin in his life because fuck, Bilbo will endure hell rather than to allow Thorin to leave him. He will put up the greatest bitch fight against the Devil himself, fighting till his very last breath.

“Well, I didn't  _initially_ plan on ignoring you. At least not when I first started my activities in Japan.” Thorin says sheepishly with small bite to his bottom lip. 

“Wait. So you  _were_ ignoring me!? You asshole!” Bilbo shouts, his body quickly making it’s way towards Thorin, with less than three feet between them although Bilbo was tempted to close that small gap, to touch and feel Thorin, the actual man in front of him instead of imagining him in his sleep whenever Bilbo went to bed alone. “What the fuck, Thorin?! I mean, earlier you said you weren’t ignoring me on purpose and now you say you were?”

“Just, calm down and let me explain, okay?” Thorin says softly, his tone sweet and tender, which should have calmed Bilbo down but it didn’t. Instead, it pissed Bilbo off but hey, what else was new. With a small sigh, Thorin spoke. “Look, when I first started my activities in Japan, I had no intention of ignoring you because why would I do that? I can’t even go a day without you running through my mind. So, while I was working in Japan, news of your upcoming composition hit my ears, about how much effort you were putting into it and how hard you working, how little sleep you were getting, just all that typical Bilbo-ness whenever you worked in the studio.”

“Well fuck. If Bofur wasn’t enough, now you are out to make me feel so damn amazing about myself and my life. God I feel so loved.” Bilbo sulkily mutters.

“Dammit Bilbo, you know that is not what I meant. It’s just that you are above and beyond when you work in the studio and since I was Japan working hard on promotions for my novel, I put two and two together, coming to the conclusion that it would be best if we both focus on work instead of each other.”

“Last I checked, two and two is four, you dumbass. Not you ignoring me!” Bilbo angrily says, his index finger harshly stabbing Thorin in the chest, which was firm and hard, tempting Bilbo to want to plaster and glue himself against the man. “Did you fucking hit your head against something that made you come up with such ass of logic!?”

“But it made sense at the time, dammit! If I returned to London after the first week of promotions in Japan, I wouldn’t have wanted to go back because I wouldn't able to stand our seperation.” Thorin says as he exhales a deep sigh, his dark brows furrowing, making his face look tired yet stupidly handsome. He bites his bottom lip and squares his shoulders, obviously restraining himself to do something, maybe reaching out to Bilbo or bolting to the front door. Or both. Hopefully in the direction of Bilbo’s room.

“So, let me get this straight. You are telling me that all those weeks of ignoring me and of depriving ourselves of each other were for  _me_?” Bilbo slowly asks, his finger harshly pressing into Thorin’s chest, the material of the shirt crinkling around Bilbo’s index finger. And instead of flinching away, Thorin leans into the touch and lightly nods his head, his eyes never leaving Bilbo’s. “You’re—you’re fucking  _serious_. You actually are! Oh my god. I cannot even fathom you right now.” Bilbo bites out, anger and heat and just every emotion in the world slamming into him. Bilbo retracts his finger and backs away from Thorin a couple of steps, longing and sadness quickly creeping into the older man's face, as if Bilbo had literally ripped and pulled out Thorin’s heart which each step. 

“You are such a fucking idiot, you know that?” Bilbo says, his voice no long bent on rage. Thorin bites his bottom lip harder and just stares at Bilbo, his pained eyes drinking in every bit of Bilbo, as if he was savoring the moment before Bilbo—before Bilbo broke up with. Oh for the love of all that is good. The idiot was thinking that Bilbo was going to break up him. He was preparing himself for the break up speech. The asshole was actually mentally preparing himself. “I am not breaking up with you, so stop that pained expression, you idiot!” Bilbo exasperatedly exclaims as he drags a hand across his face, his eyes looking up at Thorin who looked so small and vulnerable all of a sudden.

“—You aren’t?” Thorin softly asks, tension quickly leaving him and relief settling down, his body relaxing with ease. A small but quirked smile appears on his face, hope glimmering in his eyes as he inches towards Bilbo. Just a few inches though, as if he was afraid that a single wrong move would make Bilbo take his words back.

“No, I am not even though I should. Fuck, I should have dumped your ass years ago instead of letting you emotionally abuse me like this.” Bilbo says, his voice soft and tender, his body weighing him down, those few hours of sleep not making a difference to his fatigued body because he was tired all over again. “I just can’t believe that you actually pulled that shit. What the fuck were you even thinking?”

“I was thinking about how I wanted you to do well on your composition, about how I wanted you to give it your best without me there to distract you, about how much I loved you and missed you and wished nothing but the best for you while I stayed in Japan.” Thorin softly says in one breath, his gaze careful but warm. “I know it wasn’t right and it was unfair but I’d rather cut my hands off than to disrupt you during your work.”

“Yeah, well congrats, you did just that because by not being here, you made me lose my insanity. I couldn’t focus on anything and anyone and just fucking hated everything, including your ass of a face.” Bilbo mutters with a shudder, memories of those painful nights rushing to him.

“But it worked, did it not?” Thorin says with a smile, a bite his bottom lip. “My agent told me about how hard and restlessly you were working in the studio, night and day.”

“You’re a fucking sadist, aren’t you?” Bilbo accuses, his eyes narrowing down on now the full grin on Thorin’s face, his handsome yet gentle features making Bilbo catch his breath. God, this man was so beautiful, fucking eye candy all around. “You enjoy seeing me in pain. You gain gratification from that shit, don’t you?”

“I do not.” Thorin says with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as all the tension in the air magically dissipates. Thorin lamely draws a hand up to his nape and scratches the skin, sheepishly looking at Bilbo who just couldn’t stand the adorable puppy-like man that was standing in front of him. Damn it, he just wanted to run up to the man and scratch his ears and coo little words to him about what a good boy he has been, or has not, and how he was going to give him a treat and shit and just be sappy as fuck because dammit, Thorin is Bilbo’s drug. He makes Bilbo stupid and high and just outright fucking happy.

“I doubt that. You sadist.” Bilbo mutters, a barely visible smile creeping onto his own face as he stares at Thorin who was staring right back at him. It was like an eye fucking contest; heated, longing, and horny. A contest where whoever eye fucks the other the longest wins a dildo or some shit. Although, Bilbo was tired of dildos because after having the real thing inside you, some damn rubber toy doesn’t do  _half_ the justice. So no dildos for Bilbo as first place prizes, please.    

“So—am I back in your good graces?” Thorin softly asks, his face gleaming with hope and anticipation, looking like that eager yet dashing chap Bilbo had fallen in love with years ago. Thorin drops his hand from his nape and clasps them together in front of him, shoulders squared. It looked like the poor man was readying himself for war.

Bilbo bites back a laugh at that thought, obviously completely forgetting why he was so pissed off at Thorin in the first place. Which, now that he thought about it, was kinda of irrelevant since Thorin’s plan of ignoring Bilbo to make him focus on the album had actually paid off. He is more than ¾’s done with his album and he has been top of things, as mope and sulky as he was. So in some sick and twisted way, Thorin’s plan had worked.

And in some more sick and twisted ways, Bilbo’s anger and frustration and just everything else towards Thorin was completely gone. He didn’t give a rats ass about all those lonely and cold days, sullenly working on the album, barely sleeping or eating. The days where he felt like crying, screaming, and ripping off anyone’s head if they even  _dared_ to come with a ten feet radius of Bilbo or so God help him, he will kill them were all gone. Every single horrible and emotional fucked up thing that Bilbo went through these past couple of weeks were completely forgotten because there stood his ass of a boyfriend, in all his handsome glory. So with or without his will, Bilbo wasn’t upset, angry, or hostile towards Thorin anymore. At least for the most part.

“You deprived me of sex for two months, you asshole. What explanation do you have for that?” Bilbo bites out, his hormones and everything else horny in his bones coming to life, his body glowing with want. Being deprived of sex should be considered illegal or some shit because it sucked ass. Well, Thorin sucked—yeah. Off topic. “Two fucking months, Thorin. We haven’t had sex in two months. That’s the longest record ever for us. Unless you were cheating on me. Were you? Did you find some fucking booty call? I swear to God I will rip your balls out if you have been cheating on me with some whores, Thorin.”

And at those words, a loud hearty rumble of a laugh erupts from Thorin, his whole chest trembling, his eyes crinkling into thin lines. Oh blimey. That is one beautiful sight, a sight Bilbo could watch forever and ever, where he can just drown in it and become a part of it. But shit, Bilbo was being serious and last he checked, what he said wasn’t a joke. He will cut whoever even dared to touch his man and then proceed to cutting off Thorin’s balls because the asshole probably started the whole booty call thing.

“Oh Bilbo, you are still the most territorial person I know in existence.” Thorin says with a full smile, his chest slowly heaving up and down from laughing too hard, his shirt clinging to his chest and forearms like second skin. Bilbo swallows a small gulp as his eyes run over Thorin's body, his growing muscles, and his too-tight-for-my-chest shirt as the man just reeks perfection all over the place. “The only sex I have had in the past two months is with my left hand, on my hotel bed, alone with images and thoughts of you.” Thorin unabashedly and darkly says, his eyes flickering into a dangerous hue for a split second before they return to their normal color, turning the fuck on in between Bilbo’s thighs. Like  _all_ the fucking lights on, even the Christmas ones. Thorin was getting really, really, really good at that smoldering look. As in _really_ fucking good. And if Bilbo held his breath at Thorin’s dark gaze on him, well, he fucking held his breath because sexy time was probably around the corner. Hopefully.

“You should have sent me pictures then, you asshole!” Bilbo angrily says with a pout, thinking off all the times that Thorin jacked off to Bilbo, which was just the sexiest thing ever because that meant Thorin thought about Bilbo while he was in Japan, that Thorin missed Bilbo just as much as Bilbo had missed him. “You should have recorded it or something, you bastard! I cannot believe you didn’t think of doing that! I could have had Thorin porn all those nights I was alone!”

“Yeah. Still has territorial as ever.” Thorin says with a full smile, his body relaxing, his gaze tender and fond. And just like that, Thorin snaps his head towards the kitchen and the island counter, specifically the little pink carton box on top it. Thorin looks at Bilbo, the pink box, back at Bilbo and then back at the box. “Right, the gift. So, in case you didn’t enjoy my birthday video message, I took extra precaution and prepared a proper birthday celebration.” Thorin says as he turns around, not waiting for answer from Bilbo as he trudges into the kitchen, hands swiftly reeling to the pink box. Bilbo slowly follows Thorin with furrowed brows and a spiked curiosity as he lets the man fiddle here and there with the box, his back to Bilbo.

“Can you please turn off the lights?” Thorin asks with his back hunched over the counter, as if a little kid was hiding his candy from the world. Bilbo mutters something under his breath as he edges towards the wall, switching off almost all of the lights in the house except the hallway light as it sheds a small warm orange glow of light all around Bilbo, Thorin, and the house. “Okay, now close your eyes.”

“What the fuck, Thorin? What are you—“ Bilbo says when Thorin is suddenly in front of him, his hand clamped over Bilbo’s mouth, his broad body hiding the counter and whatever the fuck that was on it. Thorin brings his other hand up to Bilbo’s eyes and lightly drapes them down his face, forcing Bilbo’s eyes to shut close. Satisfied, Thorin releases Bilbo and slowly walks back, taking all the warmth of his body with him.

“Now, when I say you open your eyes, you open them.” Thorin says, his voice distant from where Bilbo was standing, making Bilbo curious even more since you know, he had his fucking eyes closed and the only thing he could see was pitch blackness. Like shit, who knew darkness could be the biggest cockblocker ever when sexy times was around the corner. Bilbo hears some shuffling in the kitchen, some sighing, some scraping, and finally, silence. “Okay. Open your eyes.” Came Thorin’s deep but gentle voice as Bilbo exhales a sigh before opening his eyes, his vision welcomed by his favorite cake, Strawberry Rose Chocolate, with a single candle lit in between the fresh raspberry topping. 

Biblo stares at the cake with astonishment because it was the first cake Bilbo ate when he went to Japan for the first time with Thorin, a cake that also represented the first time Bilbo gave himself up to Thorin that very night, and because It was the most delicious cake ever. Except right now, the cake wasn’t what Bilbo focused on. No, he his gaze fell upon his boyfriend that held the cake, the light glow of the candle emitting off the most beautiful shade on Thorin’s face, his dark and handsome features standing out in contrast to his amber skin. Oh blimey. He looked so damn beautiful and even moreso when his lips parted into a gentle but full smile, his pearly teeth glistening, his beard marking his smooth skin, his eyes glowing with love and warmth.

“Happy birthday, Bilbo.” Thorin says, not even bothering to say more because he knew there was no point. He knew there were no words available in the world to describe how much, how deeply, and how royally fucked in love Thorin Oakenshield was with Bilbo Baggins. There just weren't enough words and the best part of it all was that those three words were enough for Bilbo. Thorin knew that was all Bilbo needed because the beautiful golden-headed lyrist was now gaping with a wide semi-gummy smile, his trademark.

“You fucking asshole.” Bilbo softly whispers as he duck his head, trying to fight off everything that ranges from tears of joy to laughing out loud to collapsing on the floor to drowning in the warmth of Thorin, the house, the love. Bilbo hears some shuffling towards him as Thorin was now merely a feet away from him.

“Blow the candle, Bilbo.” Thorin softly says, his gaze flickering into a dark hue of tenderness and desire, his stupidly handsome face literally glowing because of the candle. Good god, he was beautiful. And he was Bilbo’s, from head to freaking toe.

“I know what else I’d like to blow.” Bilbo says, his tongue licking his bottom lip, his eyes raking in Thorin’s body like that creepy ass fucking pedophile around the corner in his beat up van, waiting to strike with candy and fucking unicorns because shit, the man that stood in front of Bilbo was _his_ , in every single damn way possible.

“Dammit Bilbo. Can you just blow the candle?” Thorin says exasperatedly, obviously holding himself back if his strained face and his tense body were anything to go by. Bilbo-1, Thorin-0. And there better be no fucking dildos as first prize if Bilbo wins.

“Okay okay.” Bilbo softly mutters with a smile, his feet making their way to Thorin and the delicious cake. He looks up at Thorin for a split second before he leans down and closes his eyes, making a wish. And yes. He is a full grown man who believes in making wishes, so fuck you. Making wishes on birthdays are especially awesome if it was wishing for birthday sex with an overly handsome boyfriend.   

And without a warning, Bilbo has cake plastered all over his face, strawberry icing dripping down his nose, splats of sponge cake hitting the floor. He blinks and hears a gentle but deep rumble of laugh right across from him, Thorin smiling with a full grin. And just like that, Bilbo is also smiling and laughing, letting his body sweep into joy and warmth and love, completely unwinding himself after weeks of work, loneliness, lack of sleep, and life itself. He hasn’t felt this amazing in weeks, Thorin obviously being the cause of everything. And although that doesn't sound sane nor healthy to most, Bilbo wouldn't want it any other way. Thorin was his drug that threw him up into the clouds before making him come crashing down onto his face, hard and brutally. Thorin was heaven and hell itself, throwing Bilbo’s life into a chaos so sinfully good yet so painfully lonely. 

And in a blur of seconds, Bilbo’s laughter was quickly engrossed by Thorin’s mouth as it eagerly pressed against Bilbo’s, Thorin’s tongue peeking out to lick off the frosty sugariness off Bilbo’s skin, leaving a wet trail of saliva around Bilbo’s chin. Bilbo lets out a shameless moan because this was his first kiss with Thorin in _months_  and it was the most glorious moan ever as Thorin’s tongue laps over Bilbo’s lips, licking and nibbling the pink skin, tasting Bilbo for everything its worth. Thorin’s hands completely drop what was left of the cake and instead grabs Bilbo’s forearms, pulling Bilbo towards him, covering the small gap between them.

Bilbo pushes himself up against Thorin’s chest, feeling the firmness of the man's chest, answering his earlier question as to whether Thorin was working out these days. And the answer was a big “ _FUCK YES!_ ” with flashing neon lights because his chest was toned with lean and hard muscles that flushed against Bilbo’s smaller body. With a groan, Bilbo bites onto Thorin’s bottom lip, wanting to get inside the dark and wet mouth, asking for entrance. And Thorin grants him all the entrance in the world as a low groan escapes his lips, his whole tongue darting out to lick as much of Bilbo’s lips as it can.

The kiss is slow but bruising, both savoring every second of it, their first kiss in months, making it all the more special and fulfilling. Bilbo shamelessly groans when Thorin deepens the kiss as it slowly turns rougher and slicker with tongues, teeth, and lips, both men battling against each other for every inch of skin they can lay claim to. Bilbo tips up on his toes, his nose slightly nudging Thorin's before he licks and sucks into Thorin's mouth, making the older man softly and contently groan.

“Fuck. I missed doing that.” Bilbo gasps onto Thorin’s lips as they pull apart for air. Bilbo presses his forehead into onto Thorin’s nose, his arms slowly but securely wrapping around Thorin’s waist, plastering himself against the older man. Thorin lazily nods his head against Bilbo’s face, his arms wrapping around Bilbo’s shoulder, tightly and securely holding him right next to his chest. “Again. Let’s do that fucking again.” Bilbo breathes against Thorin’s lips, his arms slowly trailing on the hemline of Thorin’s shirt. Thorin lets out a throaty laugh before he dips his head back down, capturing Bilbo’s lips in another bruising kiss that was just so perfect, it swelled up Bilbo’s hammering heart.

Bilbo’s hands trail up Thorin’s side, slowly creeping up and wrapping around his nape, pulling him down to deepen the kiss. His hands gently tussle into the soft strands of Thorin’s dark hair, tugging at them when Thorin teases Bilbo’s mouth with his tongue. Fucking mischievous asshole.

Bilbo groans out an impatient sigh into the kiss when he feels Thorin’s hands slipping down his back, his fingers drawing circles up and down his spine, making his manhood come to life. The asshole was teasing him on purpose, making Bilbo needy and wanting even more than he already was. In retaliation, Bilbo bites down on Thorin’s bottom lip and nibbles on it as his tongue licks the bruised skin, eliciting a dark groan from Thorin. Bilbo-2, Thorin-0.

“Damn it.” Thorin groans into Bilbo’s mouth, his hands roaming all over Bilbo's body, knowing the exact places that made Bilbo gasp and squirm and whimper. Thorin knew Bilbo’s body like the back of his hand and that, that made his body swell with a possessive pride. “You are so damn beautiful.” Thorin mutters onto Bilbo’s lips before his lips roughly catch Bilbo’s, ensuing another round of a wet tongue battle, leaving them both breathless in the most amazing way possible.

Bilbo shamelessly melts into Thorin’s arms because they are so warm and so secure, slowly grinding his hips against Thorin, getting rewarded with a groan of the greatest degree from the older man. Thorin mutters a ‘ _fuck_ ’ onto Bilbo’s lips before his hand tightly grasp Bilbo’s hips, yanking Bilbo’s half-hard on against his groin, hard. Bilbo yelps out a squeak onto Thorin’s mouth at the hot contact between their groins, his own body heating up and his groin blistering hot with lust and desire. Thorin smirks and grinds his hips into Bilbo again, making the shorter man gasp and latch onto Thorin for dear life. Bilbo-2, Thorin-1.

Bilbo’s half-hard on was now a full-hard on, standing up like a fucking prick as his hips rut against Thorin’s clothed erection, their kiss getting wetter and sloppier, their hands groping each other like second skin. Bilbo weakly whimpers because he can't believe that he survived two fucking months without  _this_ , without Thorin and his mischievous his lips and his hands. How in the fuck did he do that shit?

“Bedroom. Now.” Bilbo hoarsely moans out, his arms pulling onto Thorin’s shirt, his fingers entwining into the material. Thorin complies with Bilbo’s demand as he slowly leads them out to the living room and towards the hallway.

They don’t get to the bedroom as quickly as they hoped because of their constant need to stop in order to kiss, grope, and hump each other every step of the way. It also doesn’t help that Thorin practically manhandles Bilbo’s body, pushing him against the hallway wall, grinding into Bilbo hard and slow. Bilbo lets out a gasp onto Thorin’s mouth as he leans into the friction, Thorin taking advantage of Bilbo’s open lips, plunging his tongue into Bilbo's sweet mouth that was like a poisonous flower, sweet as honey but deadly as a fucking bee.

“Thorin. Bed. Now.” Bilbo groans out in short gasps when Thorin’s erection ruts against his, making his body tremble in sheer anticipation. The kind of anticipation that was long overdue and loved in their relationship because no matter how many times they kissed or had sex, each and every time felt like it was their fist. Every single touch between them was special with anticipation always and slowly building up, driving them both to insanity.

Thorin kisses Bilbo one last final time before he unpins Bilbo from wall and grabs his wrist, sloppily leading him towards the bedroom. And if Bilbo’s hands just so happen to grope Thorin’s butt while Thorin led him, no one had to know. They also didn’t need to know about Bilbo’s hands constantly caressing Thorin’s back and spine as he plasters himself against Thorin’s back, leaving sinful little touches all over his boyfriend.

“You fucking tease.” Thorin growls when they enter the room before spinning around and slamming Bilbo up against the wall, which was becoming a major turn on for Bilbo. He could really get used to the idea of being manhandled into the wall, being taken advantage of it with nowhere to go, simply trapped between Thorin and the wall. Oh fuck yes. He could really get used to the walls, it just had a kinky vibe to it and fuck if Bilbo wasn’t into kinky because he was.

“Stop talking and start fucking my mouth.” Bilbo demands against Thorin’s lips, his hips rutting against Thorin’s in quick and hard thrusts, their clothed erections making them groan and moan like broken records. Thorin wraps his arms Bilbo’s waist, pulling Bilbo into his torso with Bilbo almost straddling him, his back pushed up against the wall, his legs messily wrapped around Thorin's waist. They grind into each other like dogs in heat because fuck, that is what this was: they were in fucking heat for each other. After two long, painful months, they were going to fulfill every damn fucking fantasy till neither could move a muscle, let alone walk.

“Bed.” Bilbo groans, his fingers tussling through Thorin’s hair before tugging at the dark strands, pulling Thorin’s face upwards towards his lips. Thorin mumbles a ‘ _Yah. Okay._ ’ before his lips are back on Bilbo’s, his arms securing around Bilbo's slim waist, hauling him upwards as he edges towards their bed, their tongues and teeth clashing, both fighting for dominance since neither are willing to submit to the other. And that was the beauty of their relationship because there was no set dominant or submissive role as both played both parts. They were equals when it came down to it. Bilbo bottomed out some days, Thorin bottomed out other days. Bilbo topped some days, Thorin topped other days. It was a cycle they formed during the early stage of their relationship and it was fucking perfect.

But today, fuck, _today_ , Bilbo wants Thorin. He wants Thorin deep within him, hard and pulsing because he fucking missed the feeling of Thorin filling him up these past few weeks. God, Bilbo just wants to be wrecked tonight and he makes it known.

“Wreck me, Thorin. Fucking wreck me, _please_.” Bilbo practically whipsers as Thorin lightly lays him down on the bed, his dark silhouette looming above. And although Bilbo couldn't see his boyfriend’s expression, he smiles with triumph because there is no greater weapon in bed against Thorin than a submissive and hard Bilbo. It does things to Thorin. Magical and sinful things where his boyfriend practically  _stalks_  over to his smaller and slimmer frame, Thorin contently humming as his lips latch onto Bilbo’s, ensuing a slow and passionate kiss that just explodes up into the dark room, illuminating it and filling it up with its vibrant colors of love, warmth, and lust.

Bilbo roams his eager hands under Thorin’s shirt, his fingers coming in contact with firm and beautiful skin that belongs to  _him,_ every single inch of it. Bilbo wraps his arms around Thorin’s torso under the tight shirt, his blunt nails digging into Thorin’s firm skin as they trace every hard muscle, line, and crease. He could feel Thorin’s body twitch and convulse under his touch and that alone is enough to make his soul fly to the fucking moon because a simple touch from Bilbo broke Thorin apart. Even after all these years, Thorin was pleased by the smallest touches. And that, fuck, that was just beautiful in Bilbo’s eyes.

“I will wreck you beyond recognition. I promise you that much.” Thorin lowly whispers against Bilbo’s nape, his mouth licking and nibbling at the pale skin, his hands grabbing Bilbo’s shirt and tugging at it, eager to get it off and away. And without another word, Thorin has Bilbo’s shirt off in a blink of an eye as he is welcomed with flawless skin that is lightly engraved with beauty moles of all shapes, sizes and colors. To Thorin, Bilbo’s speckles are the greatest turn-ons because they’re like a maze, where Thorin licks every line and dot of each mark, slowly making his way from one part of Bilbo to the next, discovering every hidden part of his lover.  

“Clothes. Off.” Bilbo mutters against Thorin’s lips, their hips slowly but harshly grinding against each other, their erections obviously ready to tear out of their clothes. Fucking clothes, Bilbo ought to sue them. But Thorin, being the amazing sex partner he is known to be, has his own shirt and jeans off in under a minute flat, leaving him in all his checkered boxer glory. He leans down to capture Bilbo’s lips, his hands quickly working on Bilbo’s sweats that were becoming Bilbo's least favorite sweats because they were fucking cockblocking him. Damn sweats, Bilbo ought to sue that shit too. “Fucking yes.” Bilbo moans out into the air with an overjoyed and filling laugh as cool air hits his body like a freight train, his body completely bare except his snuggly tight briefs that were  _not_ doing a good job of holding back his erection.

And if Bilbo just so happened to notice a glint in Thorin’s eyes as the older man glares down in between Bilbo’s thighs, well, it wasn’t his fault that his legs spread out a tad bit, giving Thorin possibly the greatest view in the entire world. But fuck, that dark glare that Thorin is giving him, or rather his erection, is just the sexiest thing because Thorin’s eyes were obviously watching Bilbo’s pulsing length, aching to free it from the briefs and just fucking swallow it whole, which Bilbo happily welcomes.

“Don’t fucking just _stare_ at it, Thorin. Fucking touch me.” Bilbo impatiently groans as he reaches his own hand out to his groin before it's quickly stopped, Thorin’s fingers tightly latched around his wrist. Thorin’s eyes glint into a dark hue, his tongue licking his bottom lip as he slightly climbs down towards the edge of the bed, his feet almost touching the floor. He positions himself at Bilbo’s knees and looks up at Bilbo under his dark eyelashes.

“May I?” Thorin asks like the fucking asshole he is because he  _knows_ he can but is stalling for time, giving Bilbo some major blue balls. That arse of a tease. Bilbo-2, Thorin-2.

“Fucking yes. Yes times a million.” Bilbo groans out in a broken whisper, Thorin’s hands already on his manhood, briefs pooled down to Bilbo’s ankles, his hand harshly pumping away with no fucking care, his mind reeling only with the thought of making Bilbo come just from his touch, of driving him into insanity. Bilbo moans out into the air when Thorin’s thumb teasingly grazes the head of Bilbo’s pulse, over and over again, drawing out from Bilbo a broken whimper that is like music to Thorin’s ears, his fingers and hand slowly pumping Bilbo, making the mighty golden-headed lyrist wreath under him in lust and desire. 

Thorin slightly creeps up the bed, his lips kissing Bilbo’s pale stomach, his tongue flicking into Bilbo’s navel, his hands ever so gracefully pumping away. By the time Thorin draws up his free hand to Bilbo’s erect nipples, Bilbo is ready to burst, the heat pooled in his groin already becoming too much. He needs to release, like right  _now_. And a slight touch from Thorin’s thumb across his slit does the trick, his climax slowly seeping out and down onto Thorin’s hand. Bilbo gasps out a broken moan and focuses on breathing because he has never prematurely came this fast. Then again, not having sex with your boyfriend for over two months does things to the body; hungry, needy things that make the body explode at the slightest touch.

“That was amazing.” Bilbo slowly drawls out, his arms reaching up into the empty air, hands and fingers drawn apart before Thorin gently fits in between his arms, Bilbo’s hands snaking around Thorin's nape. He pulls Thorin close, his lips ghosting over Thorin’s nape and collarbone, leaving small nips, kisses, and trails off saliva all over, marking the older man and making him shiver. Like Thorin had said, Bilbo was fucking territorial over what was rightfully his and he’ll be damned if he lets others touch Thorin without wanting their hands cut off. Or their balls. 

Thorin lightly places his hands around Bilbo, caressing his sides as he hums, leaving his own kisses against Bilbo’s temple and the crown of his head. He shift his weight slightly so that his whole body is splayed over Bilbo’s, covering him perfectly and completely, hip to hip, chest to chest. 

“Bilbo, no more foreplay. Please—” Thorin whispers near Bilbo’s ear, impatiently and softly, obviously holding himself back since he has yet to have his release, which newsflash, was a good thing. No release for Thorin meant extra vigor and release when he was  _in_ Bilbo, not fucking outside of him because truly, where the fuck was the fun in letting Thorin have his release if it wasn’t inside of Bilbo? Yeah. There was no fun in that like at all. And Bilbo likes fun, so.

“Go for it, darling.” Bilbo softly whispers against Thorin’s chin, his tongue licking Thorin's skin before nibbling at his lips, smiling against Thorin’s mouth. And before Bilbo can comprehend anything else, his briefs and Thorin’s boxers are completely taken off and thrown across the room, Thorin’s body draping over Bilbo. And just like that, Thorin’s body meshes into Bilbo’s, their groins slowly grinding into each other, hands roaming over every inch of bare skin, their lips fighting for dominance as broken groans and whimpers engross the room.

Okay, the whimpers are more so on Bilbo’s side but it wasn't his fault that Thorin is so blasted amazing in bed, leaving soft bruises of red and small touches of fire across his skin and body, throwing Bilbo into a hazy state of insanity. The man just knew how to draw out the most shameless moans and whimpers from Bilbo, and Bilbo wouldn't want it any other way. Thorin then slips himself into the vee of Bilbo’s legs, straddling them around his waist, drawing Bilbo closer and rutting into him hard and harsh, his manhood slightly leaking onto Bilbo's soft skin. Thorin ruts his pulsing length against Bilbo's slowly hardening one, making Bilbo release a shameless moan because fuck did Thorin know how to make Bilbo see stars, his skin heating up from simply touching Thorin's skin, let alone everything else.  

“Thorin, just get in me.  _Now_.” Bilbo cries out in a broken breath, Thorin already scrambling to his knees, leaning over Bilbo to the bed table where they always kept the lube. And in under a couple of minutes, Thorin has grabbed the lube, coated his fingers, his length, and even had enough time to settle back in between Bilbo’s thighs. Seriously, Thorin is the greatest and most efficient sex partner ever Bilbo's ever because—oh fuck, that is Thorin’s finger making its way into Bilbo and it was such  a familiar but distant feeling considering that Bilbo hasn't had anything in him for weeks. Bilbo's breath hitches and his body swells up in pleasure seconds later, his body welcoming the sudden intrusion. “Ngh. It’s been way too long since I have had anything inside of me. Fuck.”

“Even better then because I am going to open you up all the way.” Thorin whispers against Bilbo’s lips with a kiss, who smirks right back at Thorin, enjoying and anticipating all that Thorin promises him. And true to his word, Thorin slips in two more fingers almost at once, pushing Bilbo’s puckered hole open and open till he was a wreathing mess under Thorin. Bilbo-2, Thorin-3.

Thorin nestles his head into Bilbo’s nape, leaving small kisses and nips at the soft skin, distracting Bilbo from the uncomfortable pain of being stretched, doing his best to appease it as much as he can, his well-coated fingers slowly and tenderly scissoring Bilbo. He exhales a relieved sigh when Bilbo moans at Thorin’s finger stretching him, his breath unevenly ghosting Thorin's skin. And when Thorin’s just so happens to hit a certain bundle of nerves within Bilbo, the shameless moans and whimpers come out all at once from Bilbo’s lips.

“Oh fucking _yes_.” Bilbo groans out, his hands wrapping around Thorin’s torso, all the way to his back, his hands splayed across Thorin's back, lightly caressing his spine, his nails digging into the firm skin. “Fuck, I missed this— _ngh_. There. Do that there again.” Bilbo groans into Thorin's collarbone, slightly biting the skin with his teeth before nibbling at it and licking it, Thorin’s fingers hitting Bilbo’s prostate, softly but accurately. And just like that, Bilbo is nothing more than a puddle of whimpers and moans as he presses himself down on Thorin’s fingers, aching for more. And damn was that a beautiful sight to Thorin's eyes, a sight that Thorin was too deprived off these past few weeks because the last time Thorin had prepared Bilbo like this was too damn long ago and dammit, it felt amazing to be doing this, to be opening Bilbo apart, bit by bit. It made Thorin's heart swell with desire and affection at the fact that he had such power and control over Bilbo. 

“Relax and breathe.” Thorin whipers hoarsely as a lump forms in his throat when he adds one last finger, stretching Bilbo as much and as gently as he can because at the rate they were going at, they were most likely going to be spending the rest of the night _and_ morning doing nothing but making love to each other. And yes, Thorin calls sex ‘making love’ because he is a sappy bastard like that.

Bilbo slightly leans up to capture Thorin’s lips in a slow and wet kiss, their tongues slobbering all over, their teethes clashing, their lips melting into one. And Just as suddenly as Thorin had inserted his fingers into Bilbo for the first time in months, he just as easily retracts them, making Bilbo cry out in protest at the loss of contact and without another word, Thorin positions himself between Bilbo’s thighs. Bilbo suddenly feels Thorin pushing his length in slowly and carefully, his rock-hard erection passing through each layer of his ring muscles, slowly leaving a burning trail that made him tremble with want and need, a sensation that Thorin's fingers could only dare to posses.

Bilbo impatiently pushes down on Thorin's length because Thorin needed to hurry the hell up and get to the fucking and thrusting part because that, that was the shit. That was what Bilbo has been craving for every night during Thorin's absence and he’ll be damned if let’s Thorin take his sweet ol’ time. He needs to be fucked, raw and open. 

“Fucking _move_ , Thorin. Please. Just move. I am fine.” Bilbo practically sobs as he feels Thorin’s tip all the way inside him, filling him in the most beautiful way possible. God, Thorin’s body was  _made_ for Bilbo’s body. They were fucking sculpted for each other excpet there was no fucking yet, which didn't sit well with Bilbo. “ _Fuck_.  _Me_.” Bilbo growls, his blunt nails scraping Thorin’s back, most likely to leave red marks and bruises. He perks his legs up from Thorin’s sides and wraps them around Thorin’s waist, pushing the older man deeper inside him. And before Bilbo has a chance to tell Thorin to move again, his body trembles and shivers because Thorin was moving. The man was finally moving with actual movements as he grabs ahold of Bilbo’s thighs, his hands leaving pink traces of bruises on the tender skin from his tight grip on them. He gently pulls out of Bilbo and thrusts right back in, his face buried in Bilbo’s nape, kissing and sucking at the skin as if it was the sweetest candy in the world. 

His thrusts at first were slow and gentle, driving Bilbo to outright pleasure and desire, as if Thorin was slowly burying himself within Bilbo, making that warm and tender spot his home, his everything. And when Bilbo mewls, liking a fucking man by the way, Thorin’s control snaps as he thrusts right into Bilbo, making him gasp for air. Fucking yes. There it was. There it was after two fucking months. There was Bilbo moaning, twitching, and whimpering at every thrust from Thorin because goddamn did Thorin know how to fuck, making Bilbo squirm in sheer pleasure and joy. There was the feeling where Thorin filled Bilbo up, to such extent, that Bilbo’s heart was ready to explode at the fullness. There was Thorin's thrusts that were just so good, so raw, so warm, and so familiar. 

“You—are so tight.” Thorin groans into Bilbo’s ear, his tongue lightly running over the tender skin, biting the outer rim. Bilbo turns his head and blindly finds Thorin's lips, pulling them in between his teeth and holding onto the Thorin's shoulds for dear life because Thorin’s thrust are swift and brutal as ever, his touches heating up Bilbo's body, pushing him into the bed, into the soft sheets, under his body. “I can’t hold off any longer, Bilbo.” Thorin softly whispers, his breath coming in short, quick gasps as his pace quickens, filling Bilbo up and up and up and away. Thorin’s hands tighten their hold on Bilbo’s thighs, drawing them all around him, giving him much better access to Bilbo and that sinful spot where he pounds into, over and over and over, nearing his climax that he hasn’t had for two months.

And a deep but gentle moan from Bilbo does it as Thorin comes just like that with a full load inside of Bilbo, his body convulsing as he rides his climax out, puncturing shallow thrusts into Bilbo, who is inches away from  _his_ climax. “I got you, darling.” Thorin softly mutters onto Bilbo’s lips as his hand gently envelops Bilbo’s raging erection, his hand quickly getting to work, pumping Bilbo. And with each pump came Bilbo’s moan and whimpers that were like music to Thorin’s ears, soft and powerful at the same time. The kind of music that is so beautiful, he just wants to grab a glass bottle and hold it to Bilbo’s lips, capturing and storing Bilbo’s voice in it, eternally and safely.

“ _Thorin—_ ” Bilbo softly moans as he comes onto both their stomachs, glossing their chests together as Thorin slowly pulls out of him and on top of Bilbo for a mere second, placing lingering kisses all over Bilbo faces. He then slowly leans down to plant a chaste kiss on Bilbo’s lips before he unwinds himself from between Bilbo’s thighs, shuffling himself to Bilbo’s side, laying on his back, slowly pulling Bilbo into his arms. Thorin presses his chest against Bilbo’s back, his arms securing around Bilbo’s waist, his face buried into Bilbo’s nape, leaving small kisses over his shoulder blades, a lazy but content smile stamping Bilbo's skin with each kiss.

“Happy birthday, Bilbo.” Thorin softly mutters into Bilbo’s ear, who shivers at the sweet and tender contact of their love making, his body still high from his coming and Thorin pounding into him. He tilts his head back so that it’s leaning into Thorin’s chin, his fingers lacing into Thorin’s hand around his waist.

“Thank you. And I am guessing this was my gift?” Bilbo asks with a smile as he scoots himself back into Thorin’s embrace, into Thorin’s warmth. He rakes his fingers across Thorin’s forearms, occasionally bringing up one of Thorin’s hands to his mouth, kissing each finger and knuckle slowly and tenderly. Thorin’s hands are by far Bilbo’s favorite, for obvious and not so obvious reasons.

“Oh no. Not even close.” Thorin smugly says as he tightly pulls Bilbo into his arms, if that was even possible at this point since they were glued to each other like second skin. Thorin brings a hand up to Bilbo’s chin, lightly tracing his jawline before Thorin tilts his head up and back, his lips crashing down on Bilbo's, ensuing a lazy kissing session before they pull apart. “My gift is my two week vacation here in London.”

“Shut up. You are fucking kidding?” Bilbo asks with a full grin, eyes gleaming with joy and hope and maybe even fucking unicorns because fuck, Thorin was going to be in London for two whole weeks. Bilbo was going to be with Thorin for two weeks.

“I am not kidding even one bit. Before stopping by your place today, I visited my agent and asked her for a small vacation since you know, I worked my ass for her in Japan nonstop for two whole months. And she said yes. So, you are mine for the next two weeks. And I am yours.” Thorin says, a smile sprouting on his face, his nose slightly rubbing against Bilbo’s. 

“Damn right you are fucking mine.” Bilbo mutters against Thorin’s lip, his tongue lightly running over Thorin's bottom lip, drawing out a content sigh from both their lips at the touch. “And this is perfect because I only have one song left to record. After that, you will fucking accompany me everywhere I go and—”

“I know.” Thorin says, cutting Bilbo off with a gentle kiss, burrowing his face into Bilbo’s golden hair, a sweet shampoo smell and a mixture of sweat and sex welcoming his nose. He presses another kiss onto Bilbo’s temple before he exhales a very deep and content sigh. “I am sticking next to you like second skin, like your shadow. I’ll be damned if I let you out of my sight, Bilbo. So I know. Don’t you worry your pretty little face about me and where I will be because my place is right next to you. Always will be.”

“Good.” Bilbo simply mutters, obviously content with Thorin’s statement since the asshole was the Casanova of words and shit. He knew how to spew the right bullshit to win people over, although he never spewed bullshit towards Bilbo. He has never been anything less of the truth towards Bilbo, so Bilbo was very, very content at Thorin's words.  

“Which reminds me, I booked us some VIP tickets to that dancing gala you have been wanted to go to for this weekend.”

“—Wait. This weekend? As in the weekend that is less than four days away?” Bilbo slowly asks, his eyes dilating twice their size as he turns around, facing Thorin. Which fuck, he looked twice as dashing and as handsome because the of sex afterglow, making it look like some sprinkled pixie dust on his skin, his skin glowing warm and smooth. “ _This_ weekend?”

“Yeah. Why?” Thorin asks, his lips capturing Bilbo’s while his arms wraps around his waist, his knee slowly inching in-between Bilbo’s thighs, clearly gearing up for round two. “Did you already have plans this weekend?”

“Oh fuck my life.” Bilbo mutters into Thorin’s chest, thoughts of Bofur and the charity event swarming his mind. “I think we’re going to need a shitload of candles for Bofur’s upcoming birthday. I have a feeling we are going to have to do a lot of making up to him after this weekend.” Bilbo resignedly says into Thorin’s chest, his arms wrapping around Thorin's waist, drawing himself into the warmth of the other. Fuck fucking. His life was not fair because choosing between his best friend and his boyfriend was not okay. It was not okay. Life sucks ball. Like deep, hard, blue balls dammit. Bilbo-2, Thorin-4.

Looks like Bilbo won’t be getting a fucking dildo after all.

 


End file.
